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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26731171">Once Upon A Shooting Star</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninetyfive/pseuds/ninetyfive'>ninetyfive</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Take That (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Camping, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Stargazing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:36:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,510</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26731171</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninetyfive/pseuds/ninetyfive</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mark invites Rob to go camping with him (in the woods, for some reason), he’s hoping they’ll finally finish that difficult sixth Take That album together. </p>
<p>Instead, Mark not only discovers that camping is one of the most awkward, embarrassing, unnecessarily difficult things in the world – but also that he and Rob fancy each other. Funny what a night staring at the stars in the sky can do to you.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mark Owen/Robbie Williams</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Once Upon A Shooting Star</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mark and Rob have decided to go camping. In a forest. Yes, seriously. Mark thought the adventure might help them come up with new songs for their brand new studio album – the first five-piece Take That album since 1995 –, but it isn’t helping in the slightest. Mark just feels embarrassment and awkwardness where the inspiration ought to be. They’ve barely written two songs on their way here! It’s truly been awful.</p>
<p>The tent Mark has brought with him is a modern inflatable one that easily fitted inside his rucksack, so it shouldn’t be too difficult to put it up as long as he follows the instructions. Granted, the instructions are in Japanese, which is a language that Mark does not understand, but that has never stopped anyone. In earnest, Mark gets to work.  </p>
<p>We’ll spare you the exact details of Mark’s efforts, but it’s a mess. There’s a reason Mark became a professional songwriter and not a professional tent-pitcher. Even though the instructions state that even a child could put up this hellish inflatable excuse for a tent, it is not true. A child could not do it, no less a short English man with two left hands.</p>
<p>Soon a wave of panic sweeps over him. He has thus far managed to lay down the tent flat on the ground and peg down what he <em>thinks </em>are its corners, but now he actually has to<em> inflate</em> the bloody thing with the massive pump that came along with it. Is this a euphemism? Maybe.</p>
<p>Mark has absolutely no idea how to do it, and he desperately wants to have their tent up and ready by the time Rob returns from his wood-gathering trip into the forest so that they may sit together comfortably. (Indeed, Rob has decided to go and get wood for a campfire. They’re taking this whole camping thing very seriously. They have an album to finish, after all.) He decides to push the pump into a tiny valve in the bottom of the tent and hopes for the best.</p>
<p>It goes horribly wrong. As soon as Mark starts to pump air into the still-flat, inflatable tent, a heavy breeze picks up. One corner of the tent comes loose from its pegs and lifts up from the floor, pulling Mark with it.</p>
<p>More metal pegs come unstuck. The tent begins to hover awkwardly in the air, with Mark being the only one to keep it from ascending into the air like a paper bag, one corner of the tent slapping into his face. It’s like trying to control a kite! It’s all very awkward.</p>
<p>Mark refuses to let his tent be carried away by the wind. Against his better judgment, he throws his full weight into the tent to stop the wind from carrying it away. The material of the tent barely cushions the fall as he throws himself to the ground.</p>
<p>Pain shoots through his right wrist, a stabbing pain that makes him see stars. The world fades to black, only for a familiar voice to make it come back again.</p>
<p>‘Mark? What the fuck are you doing?’</p>
<p>Rob has returned to a camping site that looks like a hurricane has just thundered through it. (Even though they’re in England, where there are no hurricanes, just a lot of rain. Unless you’re reading this in the far future, when climate change will have messed up the planet so badly that windstorms are frequent occurrences all over Europe and no-one can wear hats anymore for fear of losing them.) Tent pegs cover the grass. Mark seems to be wrestling with what looks like a flat tent. There are leaves everywhere. It’s dark, too, so it’s the most awkward-looking scene.</p>
<p>They really should have just booked a cabin in the Lake District and written their songs there. Never mind that – they should have just stayed in New York! At least there they could write their songs in the comforts of the Electric Lady Studios, where the most challenging thing is the malfunctioning espresso machine, and the noisy laundromat next door.</p>
<p>Who the fuck decides to go <em>camping </em>to come up with inspiration for a <em>pop</em> album? Mark is fast beginning to regret all his life’s decisions.</p>
<p>Anyway. We digress. Forest. Tent. Mark. Wrist. Rob.</p>
<p>‘Rob. Hallo.’ Mark tries to get up as casually as he can, but in doing so he forgets that he literally just threw himself to the ground.</p>
<p>A sharp pain stabs his wrist, and Mark winces. Pins and needles fill his arm. His wrist is bleeding quite badly – he must have scraped his skin during the fall. He reels from the pain.</p>
<p>Rob, being Rob, has no clue what to do. This is 2010, remember, and in 2010 Robert Williams is A Mess. He barely leaves the house, and therefore he is very rarely faced with people injuring their wrists or any other body part for that matter. He just stares at Mark uselessly until he remembers that Jason, who is always right, told him to pack a first-aid kit.</p>
<p>He gets out the first-aid kit and retrieves a bandage that is way too big, but it gets the job done. He places it gently on Mark’s injury. This makes Mark shiver visibly, but not because of the cold.</p>
<p>‘You should have asked me to pitch up the tent for you,’ Rob whispers, even though he wouldn’t know how to do it himself. It’s been ages since he last went camping – when he was a child, perhaps.</p>
<p>‘I know, but I didn’t want to keep asking you for help,’ says Mark. He’s feeling a little down suddenly. ‘You’re always the one helping me fix my lyrics when I don’t know what to do with them, and the other day you helped me finish that song I was having trouble with.’</p>
<p>Mark looks down. He thinks back to the previous months, which he has spent making music with the boys, feeling happy, but also feeling utterly miserable because Rob and Gaz are both amazing lyricists, and he is not. ‘It makes me feel a bit useless sometimes, you know, Rob, when I can’t do something right.’</p>
<p>‘You’re <em>not </em>useless,’ Rob insists fiercely. ‘You’re just not used to this type of stuff. I mean, <em>camping,</em> Mark. Camping! No-one’s good at this stuff. Who is good at camping? No-one. There are plenty of other things that you <em>are</em> good at and that I love you for.’</p>
<p>Mark looks up at that, his heart hammering inside his throat. ‘Sorry, what?’</p>
<p>‘I mean, there’s loads of stuff that you’re good at that<em> you</em> love doing, and that <em>I’m</em> fucking useless at.’ Rob’s face has gone bright pink. What the fuck did he just say? What the fuck is he doing? Backtrack, quickly! ‘I’m just sayin’ that it doesn’t matter you don’t know how to put up a fucking tent. You shouldn’t beat yourself up for not being good at certain stuff and that.’</p>
<p>Mark’s pretty sure that wasn’t what Rob was trying to say, but he doesn’t get the chance to ask, for Rob has already gotten up from the ground flustered-looking, their conversation left hanging in space. What just happened? ‘I’m going to get more firewood.’</p>
<p>Rob knows as well as Mark does that they’ve got enough wood for a bonfire.</p>
<p>With that, Rob disappears into the woods once more. As he does, he’s kicking himself for not being able to say the words that had been on his mind. Little does Mark know that the only reason he agreed to their “inspirational” camping trip was so he could be closer to his one true love.   </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Later, something miraculous happens. Rob and Mark manage to pitch up the tent in less than ten minutes! However, the tent turns out to be nothing like the advert. It’s so small! Neither men dare enter it for fear of being too close to one another.</p>
<p>Instead, the men spend as much time as possible sat in front of the little campfire that Rob has put together, just writing and coming up with ideas and postponing the inevitable moment when they have to go to bed. They also stare at the night sky, a lot.</p>
<p>There is very little light pollution in this part of England, so they can see each star as it was intended, providing them with something to talk about for when they run out of things to say. They have yet to continue the chat they were having earlier.</p>
<p><em>There are plenty of other things that you are good at and that I love you for.</em> What on Earth did Rob mean? Mark knows better than to ask.</p>
<p>Oh, but if only he could ask! Does Rob love him like <em>he </em>loves Rob? Perhaps. Perhaps not! He’ll never know.</p>
<p>‘Do you think we can see Mars from up here?’ Mark asks, his eyes glued to the night sky.</p>
<p>Rob, who has visited quite a few forums about aliens and space in his spare time, expertly points his finger at a random blinking star in the sky. Mark follows his gaze. ‘See that? I reckon that might be Mars over there.’</p>
<p>Mark’s eyes widen. ‘How do you know?’</p>
<p>‘I just do.’ Rob grins.</p>
<p>Mark isn’t convinced. The star Rob has indicated looks just like every other star he can see. No, he reckons Mars would be a lot brighter. It <em>is </em>a planet, after all, and he reckons planets would be very noticeable. ‘<em>I </em>think Mars is somewhere else,’ he says, even though he has nothing to base this on.</p>
<p>‘Really? Where?’</p>
<p>Like Rob, Mark points his finger at a star in the sky. The star he’s indicating is a bit bigger than the one Rob was pointing at. It blinks rapidly against a blanket of blackness. ‘There, see? It’s sort of blinking back at us.’</p>
<p>Rob pretends to follow Mark’s gaze. Mark has pointed at a part of space that Rob knows for a fact is full of exploding stars; stars that, by the time mankind ever gets to them, will have ceased to exist. He knows, because he’s read about it on the internet. (Where do you think he got his lyrics for <em>The Flood </em>from?) ‘I think you might be right, Mark. Yeah, I think you might be right.’</p>
<p>‘Really?’ Mark starts beaming. ‘So that’s Mars, then? Oh my. It looks so small, doesn’t it? I mean, it makes you think, doesn’t it? You know, how small and insignificant we are. We’re all just stars, in the end.’</p>
<p>Despite the beauty of the stars in the sky, Mark yawns. It’s been a very long day of tent-pitching and songwriting. (Actually, they got very little songwriting done. But that does not matter, because this story is not about songwriting, and the whole “Let’s go camping to get inspiration for our next album!” was just a silly ruse and a bad plot device.)</p>
<p>Rob glances at the tent behind him. ‘Maybe we should get some rest.’</p>
<p>Mark glances at the tent too. It is really not that large. ‘I don’t know. I think I’ll stay here for a while and look at the stars for a while longer.’</p>
<p>As though on cue, it starts raining. Heavy rainclouds cover the sky, forcing them to enter the tent after all. The second Rob zips the tent closed, the air fills with the sound of thunder. <em>Right on time. </em></p>
<p>It really <em>is </em>a small tent, Mark notices nervously. It was clearly made with just one person in mind. Here, Rob and Mark are no longer able to do pretend that they are not inside each other’s orbits.</p>
<p>‘So.’ Mark tries to make himself even smaller than usual. ‘We’re going to bed, then.’</p>
<p>‘Yes.’</p>
<p>‘How, exactly?’</p>
<p>Rob looks around him uncertainly. Thankfully, he had the foresight to take a sleeping bag with him, meaning there’s two of them, meaning they can at least sleep semi-separately. ‘I’ll try not to turn in my sleep, I suppose.’</p>
<p>They have no choice but to sleep with their day clothes on, for there’s no way they’re getting changed in front of each other. (Even though they used to be in a boy band together, which meant they saw each other in various states of undress <em>a lot</em>.) Mark squeezes himself into his sleeping bag – it smells of mothballs and cigarettes – and zips himself in so that he will not be able to touch anything by accident. He looks like a bagworm.</p>
<p>Rob does the same. He zips himself in and turns off a small LED lamp that came with the tent. The world goes black.</p>
<p>Silence.</p>
<p>Mark shuffles uncomfortably in his sleeping bag. ‘I’ve just realised I – I didn’t – I kind of have to . . .’ He takes a deep breath. He is glad Rob cannot see him, for he has gone very red in the face. ‘I need to take a piss.’</p>
<p>Rob lets out a small choking noise next to him.</p>
<p>This only makes Mark turn redder. ‘Imsosorryilberightback.’</p>
<p>Mark unzips himself and turns the LED lamp back on so he’ll know which sleeping bag to get into when he gets back. He leaves the tent looking a bit unstable, then gives a little squeak of alarm when he sees a large moth-like creature flapping right in front of his face. Flap flap flap! He shoos the creature away and sails away from the tent while the rain pours down on him.</p>
<p>It takes Mark a really long time to come back. Rob is actually beginning to feel quite worried when Mark returns to the tent looking utterly drenched, like a cat who fell into a river.</p>
<p>‘I . . . stepped into a puddle,’ is all Mark says. The bandage on his wrist has come unstuck, and his clothes are covered in mud. He looks down at himself, a miserable expression in his eyes. ‘You don’t happen to have another bandage, do you?’</p>
<p>It just so happens that Rob has just that! How convenient. You’d almost be tricked into thinking Rob is an actual functioning human being. Within seconds, Mark’s bandage looks as good as new. For someone who wouldn’t even be able to point out an aubergine, Rob is quite good at taking care of people he cares about.</p>
<p>Mark ought to feel a lot better, but instead he starts fumbling with his hands, not daring to look Rob in the eye. Outside, the rain keeps pouring down on their tent. Despite his warm clothes, he finds that he is suddenly feeling very cold. ‘Told you I was useless.’</p>
<p>‘Don’t say that,’ Rob protests. ‘You’re <em>not </em>useless. You’ve very, very much not useless.’</p>
<p>‘I am, though. I can’t even pitch up a tent!’</p>
<p>‘Neither can I!’ Rob insists.</p>
<p>‘I’m worse, though. Much, much worse. I feel <em>awful</em>.’ Mark finds that, now his words have started coming, they simply refuse to stop. ‘The only reason I tried to set up our tent earlier and injured my wrist and made a fool of myself because I wanted to <em>impress</em> you.’</p>
<p>‘<em>You </em>wanted to impress <em>me?</em>’ Rob laughs out loud as though someone just made an inside joke. ‘Seriously, Mark? Seriously. I thought that was <em>my </em>job.’</p>
<p>Mark looks up from his lap. His thoughts are whirring, and when he speaks, he finds that his voice is wobbling slightly. ‘What do you mean?’</p>
<p>It’s hard to tell in the dark – the LED light inside their tent isn’t very bright, and it really is quite dark – but Mark’s pretty sure two pink spots have just appeared on Rob’s cheeks.</p>
<p>‘I’ve been trying to impress you for ages,’ Rob blurts out. ‘Why do you think I agreed to come back to the band? Why do you think I kept sending you guys all those fucking songs I wrote? Why do you think I came on this fucking camping trip with you? I wanted to impress you, Mark. I want to impress you.’</p>
<p>Mark’s heart flutters, but it has no idea how to process the information it has just been presented with. Rob wants to <em>impress </em>him, but what does that actually mean? What kind of confession is Rob trying to spell out with the tips of his fingers as he gently grabs Mark’s left hand and squeezes it once, just for good luck?</p>
<p>Rob himself doesn’t seem to know either. He had been so close to entering Mark’s atmosphere and making that first vital contact, but like a nervous astronaut, he has no idea how to proceed.</p>
<p>He takes a deep breath. He wants to get this right.</p>
<p>‘Mark, you know how, when you phoned me up a couple of months ago and asked me if I’d like to come re-join Take That, I came running to you, no questions asked?’</p>
<p>Mark nods breathlessly. He wants to say <em>yes, I do</em>, <em>I know</em>, but he can’t speak, so he just nods several times very quickly.</p>
<p>Rob swallows hard. ‘Well, the reason I did that is because I <em>like </em>you.’</p>
<p>Mark gives a stunned laugh of amazement. For a moment, it feels as though he is floating through space, untethered from the rest of the world like an astronaut on an ill-fated spacewalk, only for a squeeze of Rob’s hand to place him firmly back on Earth again.</p>
<p>‘Rob, I . . .’</p>
<p>It helps that Rob’s confession wasn’t all that dramatic, allowing Mark to formulate his own response as slowly as he requires. He knows that if he were to tell Rob that he doesn't feel the same, Rob would take Mark by his word and never bring it up again. He would give Mark the courtesy of sleeping in their tent alone and always walk one step ahead of him in the forest.</p>
<p>Which Mark does not want. He does not want to sleep alone, and he certainly does not want to tell Rob a tale about not feeling the same. He wants to tell Rob just how much he likes him, even if his words will be nowhere near as measured. His own confession will be messy and stammered and overly long.</p>
<p>‘Rob, I – I like you too.’ Mark sucks in his cheeks hard. Then he lets out a nervous breath laced with, ‘Romantically, I mean. We <em>are</em> speaking romantically aren’t we? Cos if not then I have completely understood this all wrong and things are about to get very awkward and I have just told you that I love you even though you don’t love me back.’</p>
<p>Rob laughs. Mark’s heart glitters. ‘No, I did mean romantically. Mark, I like you! There you go. I like you very, very much.’</p>
<p>‘Okay? Wow. Okay.’ Mark’s throat has gone dry. It feels like he has just been told he has five minutes left to rehearse for seven shows at Wembley Stadium. It’s almost too good to believe, and for a second, he actually doesn’t. ‘I mean, are you <em>sure? </em>Cos – I’m not – I’m not perfect, you know.’</p>
<p>‘I know. Neither am I!’ Rob jests, but Mark is serious.</p>
<p>Mark wants to say something along the lines of <em>I have been sleeping around a lot and it doesn’t always end very well, and sometimes I drink a lot and I can’t remember what I did afterwards</em>, <em>and I’m shit scared I’m going to cheat on you even though I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, </em>but he can’t. He can’t. How can he say all that after Rob has just confessed he likes him?</p>
<p>So he keeps quiet. But Rob already knows. Sometimes mates can just tell. ‘I know, Mark. I don’t mind. Honestly, I don’t! I mean, have you <em>met </em>me, Mark? I bet I’m a lot less perfect than you. Seriously – I’m terrible. You’d be by far the best person in our relationship.’ Mark lets out a wild giggle at that. ‘Why are you laughing?’</p>
<p>‘Because I feel like my brain is making this all up. It’s like I’m dreaming.’ Mark pinches his arm, just to be on the safe side. This all feels too good to be true.</p>
<p>‘You’re not dreaming,’ Rob says. He too wants to laugh; it’s true, it feels like a ridiculous dream this.</p>
<p>More than that, though, Rob wants to hug Mark and kiss him. Perhaps this was not the best moment for a confession, what with them being inside a tent inside a forest and all that, and an album needing finishing, but better now than never. ‘I really like you, Mark, and I couldn’t care less about your history or whatever.’</p>
<p>‘But just the other night, at the hotel –’ Mark begins to say, referencing a messy night not long ago, but Rob cuts him off.</p>
<p>‘I don’t care who you were with the other night. I just hope that one day you’ll want to spend a night with <em>me</em>.’</p>
<p>‘Well!’ Mark flushes. He doesn’t know where to look; Rob suddenly looks even more attractive than he did just two minutes ago, especially with the light inside the tent hugging his tattooed arms. Mark directs his gaze at the ceiling, if tents can be accused of having ceilings. ‘That’s good isn’t it? Very good. Yes.’</p>
<p>Here follows an awkward silence that ought to be filled up with a dramatic kiss or at least a peck on the cheek, but Mark doesn’t know how to navigate his way there, and neither does Rob. They have entered each other’s atmospheres, but where next?</p>
<p>For someone who has been to dozens of hotel rooms just to make love with a stranger, Mark is utterly clueless when it comes to romance. Sex he understands – sex is easy and fairly uncomplicated and fun as hell –, but being with the man you’ve loved for the past few years is not.</p>
<p>‘Do <em>you</em> feel hot? I feel hot. I think it’s stopped raining, hasn’t it? I’m going to get some fresh air.’ Mark gets up to his feet unsteadily, hitting his head against the soft underside of the tent. He glances in the general direction of his crush, who daren’t look back. ‘You can come too if you want. Just, you know, try to avoid the puddles.’</p>
<p>The moment Mark says the words, he regrets them. How can he go outside when he knows he ought to get some sleep, and when they’ve barely written two songs even though that’s why they went on this camping trip in the first place?</p>
<p>Thankfully Rob does not seem to mind. He, too, needs time to think.</p>
<p>They leave their tent and start a silent stroll through the forest. They daren’t venture far from their tent. It is still illuminated inside, so they make sure they can still see the tent wherever they go, like the Northern Star in the night sky, guiding people home. After five minutes, they eventually reach a point when the silence starts becoming uncomfortable.</p>
<p>Then, right on cue: ‘Rob, look!’</p>
<p>Mark points his finger at the sky. Just as Rob looks up, a shooting star shoots across the sky. Right when Mark was beginning to think he and Rob would scroll around silently forever, the universe has presented them with something to talk about.</p>
<p>Mark starts blabbing, of course. ‘I’ve always wondered where shooting stars come from, you know. I mean, I know they’re just pieces of dust and rock that burn up the moment they hit the atmosphere, but they had to start <em>somewhere</em>, didn’t they? Maybe that star we just saw started in our part of the universe and travelled all the way here, like us.’</p>
<p>‘Maybe.’ Rob is still looking at the spot in the sky where the shooting star appeared. Another star shoots across the night sky, and they both stare at it with eyes as round as moons.</p>
<p>‘It’s so beautiful,’ Mark gushes. He shakes his head several times, utterly entranced. ‘I’ve always wanted to wish on a shooting star, you know. I wonder if shooting star wishes ever come true.’</p>
<p>‘Probably not, as it’s complete bollocks and that.’ Rob laughs. He glances at Mark to see if he shares his feelings, but Mark just keeps staring at the sky, praying for another star to burn up in the atmosphere. ‘Although . . . I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try.’</p>
<p>Mark turns to Rob like a child who’s just been told he’s allowed to buy some sweets from a sweetshop. ‘Oh, <em>could</em> we? I’d love to wish on a star and see if it comes true.’</p>
<p>‘How would you know if the dream came true?’</p>
<p>Mark rubs the back of his head. ‘I suppose I would just wish on something simple. You know, something short-term.’</p>
<p>‘Something short-term. All right.’</p>
<p>They stand there for what feels like hours, just staring at the night sky, willing to be presented with another opportunity for wishing. The universe must have decided that two shooting stars were more than enough, because no more shooting stars appear. Not even a quick flash.</p>
<p>Mark’s face falls at the realization. He suddenly feels very cold. ‘Maybe we should just head back to the tent.’</p>
<p>Mark’s about to turn on his heel when – right on cue – a bright flare illuminates the night sky. It’s a shooting star, as bright as the sun. Mark squeezes his eyes shut and makes a wish, and just as the wind carries his wish away, Rob pecks him on his right cheek and makes his wish come true.</p>
<p>It’s a quick kiss, as quick as a flash, but just like that, they have navigated their paths back to the unexplored part of space they had left behind in their tents; back to that unspoken realization that they love each other.</p>
<p>Mark does not immediately respond after the kiss, making Rob assume that Mark didn’t want their love reciprocated that way. ‘I should have asked. I’m sorry.’</p>
<p>‘I – I don’t mind.’ Mark’s fingers touch the spot on his cheek where Rob’s lips grazed him. It tingles. ‘It’s what I wished for.’</p>
<p>Rob’s eyes go as large as saucers. ‘Seriously?’</p>
<p>‘I wished that you would kiss me, and you did.’ Mark isn’t sure why he is blushing, for he has been kissed many times, in many different places, but he can still feel a blush swell in his cheeks. ‘I guess what people say about shooting stars is true. My only worry is that I don’t know what <em>you </em>wished for.’</p>
<p>‘I didn’t have to wish for anything,’ Rob says. He fumbles for Mark’s hand in the dark and finds it wrapping perfectly around his own larger one. ‘My wish already came true when you told me you fancied me back and that.’</p>
<p>Mark snorts. He can’t help it; it just sounds so fucking cheesy coming from someone like Rob, who is always so bloody impressive.</p>
<p>Rob’s smile is equally cheesy. ‘Are you taking the piss, Mark?’</p>
<p>‘I’m just happy,’ Mark says, and it’s true.</p>
<p>Another shooting star tinkles down the sky at the same time Mark presses his lips on Rob’s. They walk back to their tent hand-in-hand, another wish already in the making.</p>
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